


Truth or Dare

by littlelovelyspiderling



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Domestic, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Identity Reveal, Platonic Relationships, Precious Peter Parker, Spider-Man: Far From Home (Movie), Spider-Man: Homecoming (Movie), Tickling, Ticklish Peter Parker, Truth or Dare, ticklish!peter, truth or dare leads to pete gettin tickled by friends & may the end, with a dash of high school crushing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:35:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25237036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlelovelyspiderling/pseuds/littlelovelyspiderling
Summary: Peter, Ned, and MJ decide to play truth or dare. After a certain truth about Peter is revealed, Peter finds himself fiercely regretting his choice in party games.
Relationships: May Parker (Spider-Man) & Peter Parker, Michelle Jones/Peter Parker, Ned Leeds & Peter Parker
Comments: 3
Kudos: 98





	Truth or Dare

“Truth or dare?”

MJ sipped on her Caprisun pouch with a bored expression, leaning against the coffee table with her legs sprawled across the rug. Peter sat on the couch beside her, cross-legged, blinking sleepily.

“This is stupid,” she said.

“Ah, come on,” Ned whined. He was lying on the floor with his hands folded under his chin, scissoring his legs above his back. “It’s no fun if only two of us participate.”

“It’s no fun in general,” MJ murmured, but eventually shrugged in defeat. “Fine. Dare.”

Ned furrowed his brow in thought, glancing around the room. “Hmm…um…I dare you…ha! Dare you to lick that TV remote!”

Without hesitating, MJ grabbed the device and touched her tongue to it, her expression unchanging. “There,” she deadpanned, tossing it back on the table. “Happy?”

Ned huffed irritably. “In my head, that was a lot funnier. But that’s on me.” He rolled on to his back. “Your turn, MJ.”

“We can do something else,” Peter suggested. “Play a board game. Watch a movie.”

It was rare that Peter had any time to hang out with his friends outside of school and decathlon stuff, especially when Spider-Manning ate up so much of his life, so he wanted to make the most of every second they had together this Saturday evening. Unfortunately, when it was pouring rain out, their social options were restricted to in-house activities. And Peter was not a particularly creative host.

Ned pouted. “But we only just started! And things don’t get juicy until the second or third round.”

MJ rolled her eyes. “If you say so. Peter? Pick your poison.”

Peter yawned, the gentle patter of the rain lulling him to sleep. He wasn’t in the mood to move much. “Truth, I guess.”

MJ crossed her arms over her chest and blew a tuft of hair out of her face. “What’s your weakness?”

Peter blinked, a wrinkle forming between his eyebrows. “My weakness?”

“Yeah. You know, the thing that renders you useless or whatever.”

He frowned and glanced at Ned, who looked just as confused as he was. _Is she talking about me, or about Spider-Man? She doesn’t know, does she?_ He decided to play dumb.

“Um…death?”

MJ snorted. “No. I mean something specific to you, but not necessarily deadly. Like something you love, something you hate, a phobia, an obsession, that sort of thing.”

“You ask weird questions,” Ned chuckled, but looked to Peter expectantly. Peter squirmed a little beneath their gazes.

“I…I don’t know. I don’t think I have one of those.”

“Oh, _come on_ ,” MJ prodded. “Everyone has a weakness.”

“I feel like that’s not true,” Peter chuckled. The clap of the refrigerator door shutting turned his head, and he felt a hand card through his hair as May walked up behind him.

“What are you guys up to?” she asked, handing Peter a platter of crackers and cheese. He took a handful and shoved it in his mouth then placed the rest on the coffee table.

“Truth or dare,” MJ said dryly. “I just asked Peter if he has a weakness, and he said he didn’t. This game could not be more exhilarating.”

May feigned profound disbelief. “What? That’s not true. Peter, why are you lying to your friends?”

Peter scowled at his aunt. “What? What are you talking about? I’m not lying.”

“Yes you are,” May insisted.

“Unless recklessly purchasing Star Wars merch off Amazon counts as a weakness, then I don’t think I have one. At least, not one that falls under MJ’s definition of weaknesses.”

“What about this?” May asked nonchalantly, moving her fingers from her nephew’s hair to his neck and skittering her nails against his spine. The unexpected sensation made Peter jolt and squeak involuntarily. He shrunk into a ball to evade her attack, hunching his shoulders to his ears, high-pitched giggles slipping through his defenses. The adorably childlike reaction never ceased to make May smile. No matter how old or super-powered he got, Peter never seemed to outgrow his extreme ticklishness—if anything, it had only gotten _worse._

“Aha!” Peter squealed. “M-Mahay, stop!” She pulled her hand back from her squirmy nephew with a giggle, endeared by the bright pink color overtaking his face.

Peter turned back to his friends, flushed and embarrassed, doing his best to maintain his cool. But to his horror, he watched as a slow grin curled along both of their lips. He knew what was coming. They knew what was coming. And he _had_ to find a way out.

“Oh, you’re ticklish?” MJ said, tilting her head to one side. Peter’s whole body went hot when he spotted the sinister gleam in her eye. He cringed at his own voice, which came out high-pitched and nervous.

“I—um—I mean, I guess,” he murmured, avoiding everyone’s penetrating stares. “But, uh, hey, isn’t—isn’t everyone? That’s not really a personal thing.” He pulled his knees to his chest to hide his burning face.

“It is when you’re as ticklish as you are,” May teased him, spidering her fingers against the backs of his ears. Peter yelped and flinched away, trying to shoot May a glare of betrayal but foiled by the smile tugging at the corners his mouth.

“Quihit it! Let’s just get back to the game!” He looked to Ned, praying that his best friend would catch on to how desperately he wanted to escape this predicament. “O-okay, Ned, your turn. Truth or dare?”

“I want to join!” May interrupted enthusiastically, leaning over the back of the couch. “Ned, truth or dare?”

Peter looked at her bewilderedly. “But hey, I just—”

“Dare,” Ned replied, ignoring Peter.

May smiled sweetly. “Ned, I dare you and MJ to help me tickle Peter to prove being ticklish is his weakness.”

Peter’s jaw dropped along with his stomach. _Oh. Shit._ Dread seized his entire being as three of his most trusted companions turned on him in unison, accepting the proposal without hesitation, approaching eagerly.

“W-what?” he stammered, his eyes darting between them. “No, wait—!” He tried to make a break for it but was stopped by May, who blocked him from leaping off the couch and shoved him on to his back in a heap. This gave Ned the chance to pounce on to his midsection; he sat on his legs and waist to keep him from moving and wrestled his arms above his head, which May then grabbed and pinned against the armrest.

“Agh! Noho!” Peter yelped, kicking and squirming uselessly. He looked up and gave his friend the best puppy-dog eyes he could conjure. “Ned, c-come on! Let me up!”

“Sorry, Peter,” Ned giggled, wiggling his fingers tauntingly. “But this is too hilarious _not_ to test.”

The moment his friend’s hands met his torso, Peter knew he was done for. Ned gently skittered his fingers against Peter’s sides, barely any pressure behind his touch, but Peter immediately gasped and cringed, giggles flooding from his lips.

“Ahaha! Oh god, pleehease don’t! Nehehed!” Peter wriggled beneath him, knowing he could easily throw all of them off, but also afraid of accidentally hurting someone. The fact that MJ (probably) didn’t know he was Spider-Man complicated the situation further, which meant all he could do was lie there and take it.

Even though every second was absolute _torture._

“Seriously?” Ned chuckled. “But I’m being so nice! You really are extremely ticklish, huh? How did I not figure this out sooner?” He drummed his fingers against Peter’s tummy, making him blush in anticipation. “Do you know how many arguments I could’ve won, how many of your dumb decisions I could have overturned? All with just a few _poke, poke, pokes_!”

He jabbed a finger into Peter’s midsection every time he said _poke,_ moving all over his belly and up towards his ribs. No matter how hard he tried to fight it, Peter jerked and squeaked every time.

“StohahACK!” he giggled. “You suhuhuck!”

“Oh, _really?”_ Ned said smugly, sharing an evil grin with May. Ned switched from delicate teasing to curling both his hands around his friend’s torso and squeezing sporadically, digging his thumbs deep into Peter’s sides. “How about now? Still think I suck?”

Peter’s giggles gave way to loud peals of laughter. He arched his spine and twisted his legs to try to escape Ned’s needling fingers, but they stayed firmly clamped to his midsection, never once breaking from their methodical kneading. Peter’s struggling seemed only to encourage Ned to increase his tickling intensity.

“EhahahaNehehed!” Peter bellowed. He thought out of everyone present, Ned would be the most merciful of the bunch, but clearly he had been misled. At that moment, an evilly genius idea came to Ned, who was starting to feel like a very quirky Spider-Man villain, tormenting the poor hero with cruel glee. Ned lifted up Peter’s T-shirt and slipped his hands underneath to tickle his bare tummy.

He was not disappointed in his friend’s reaction. Peter’s giggles jumped multiple octaves higher and his feet started twitching against the couch. “AAAhahahagh! Crahap—nohohahaha!”

Between bouts of heavy belly-laughs, Peter opened one eye to see MJ standing over him with her hands on her hips, smiling slyly and enjoying the show. He felt his face flash twelve shades of red and forty shades of humiliated. Out of all the people who could be witnessing this embarrassing fiasco, did it have to be MJ? His _crush?_ Even worse, at this point, she was his only hope. He squished his face into the cushions to hide his shame and muffle his laughter, blushing from head to toe. “Ehemjahayhahaha!” he giggled shrilly. “Hehehelp me! Pleeheehease!”

MJ smirked crookedly—an adorable smirk, were it not in response to his suffering—and stepped closer. “Of course I’ll help you, Peter,” she said, voice dripping with false earnestness. She lifted both hands into the air and curled them into claws. “Help you see how steep the consequences are for lying in truth or dare.”

With that, she went straight for the kill: his underarms. Peter gasped, then jerked, then shrieked. Then a new wave of laughter came barreling up Peter’s throat like a giant giggle tsunami, louder and wilder than ever.

“N-NOHO! NOHOEMJAYHAYHAHAHAHAAA!” Peter screeched and threw his head back, whipping it from side to side, the sensation driving him berserk. Her fingernails scritched and scratched along the hollows of his pits, tracing fiendishly delicate circles above and around the insanely sensitive skin. It was so gentle yet so maddening: a truly heinous combo. She switched between that and drilling her fingers deep into his armpits, going back and forth between the two techniques, making poor Peter yelp and squeal helplessly, her evil smile widening every time.

How could she have known that was his worst spot?

Between Ned wrecking his tummy and MJ teasing his underarms, Peter was ready to explode. “AHAHAHO MY GAHAHA!” he cried, tears welling in his eyes. “OHO-OKAHAY! IT’S MY WEEHEEHAHAHA—MY WEEHEAKNESS! YOU WIHIHIN!” Peter leapt against the cushions as Ned’s devious fingers moved down to his hips, grinding viciously into the hollows just above the bone. “GAHANOHOHAHA! P-PLEEHEASE STAHAHAHAAA!”

“Well that didn’t take long,” May laughed. “Then again, it never usually does.”

“Look how red his face is,” Ned snickered. When Peter’s hysterical laughter transformed into squeaky, violent hiccups, Ned stopped squeezing Peter’s sides and hips and settled into running his fingers up and down his belly in soft, teasing strokes. He didn’t want to kill his best friend, after all. MJ took the cue and started to do the same on Peter’s forearms, using her fingertips instead of her nails. Peter’s explosive, hiccup-filled laughter slowly died down now that the tickling wasn’t so intense, but the gentle tickling was still enough to keep him giggly.

“Oho—oh mahan,” he huffed, panting heavily, unable to make himself stop smiling. “You guys—you guhuys are—eheehee—I cahan’t—I can’t even—” He squirmed and giggled beneath the feathery touch of their fingertips. His hands twitched and clenched as MJ tickled his wrists and goosebumps flared across his skin while Ned’s fingers inched closer and closer to his bellybutton.

“I’m never letting you live this down,” Ned cooed. “Who would’ve thought—being tickled is Peter Parker’s weakness!”

“And Spider-Man’s,” MJ piped in casually, tracing the veins in his arm with her index finger.

In an instant, Ned stopped tickling Peter, Peter stopped giggling, and May stopped holding Peter’s arms against the couch. Everyone turned to MJ in disbelief.

“What?” Peter exclaimed, propping himself up on his elbows, wide-eyed. “Y-you know?”

MJ shrugged. “I mean, yeah. It’s kind of obvious.” She poked him in the stomach with a cool smile, making Peter wince and squeak. “And so is the fact that you’re insanely ticklish. Better not let any of Spider-Man’s super villains find out about that, huh?”

If it was even possible at this point, Peter’s blush deepened. He most definitely was never going to live this down—and he most definitely wasn’t planning on playing truth or dare again anytime soon.


End file.
